


Go Ask Alice

by 7_eleven



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Reconciliation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14984807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7_eleven/pseuds/7_eleven
Summary: Hermann is invited over to Newt's apartment on the grounds of having dinner and meeting Alice. As you may guess, "meeting Alice" has more sinister implications of mind control than first expected. Hermann has a good, if not confusing, time with his former lab partner, until everything gets awful.





	Go Ask Alice

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime around the middle of PR:U, which was a disappointment of a movie, by the way. Not enough Kaijus, not enough Charlie Day, weird plot holes and boring characters. Too militaristic. I digress, here's my story about self-indulgent porn and emotional manipulation.

A soft ding brought Hermann out of his reverie as the glass doors of the elevator slid open. Collecting himself, he stepped onto the richly patterned carpet and made his way down the hall. It wasn’t hard to find Dr. Geiszler’s apartment number; it was the only one on the floor.

Readjusting his grip on his cane, Hermann had to knock but once before the door was flung open and he was pulled inside.

“Herms! Make yourself at home,” Newt’s voice was the same as he had always remembered it: breathless and high and a million words per minute. The thought crossed Hermann’s mind to actually do the math on Newt’s average words per second before Newt was again dragging him around the apartment. “So I’m just finishing up in the kitchen but you can sit in here -- watch your step -- the view’s incredible, you can still see where Otachi crashed, the city’s growing around it but it’s that dark bit over in that mess of streets.” Hermann balked at the casual mention of the Kaiju attack from ten years prior, but Newt glossed over it as though he was remarking on a new high rise being built downtown.

“C’mon Herms, don’t just stand there, have a seat, have a seat!” Newt had made his way back to the kitchen, leaning over the bar that separated it from the sunken living room. “You want anything to drink? Dinner’s almost ready.” Hermann shook his head as he lowered himself onto the edge of the couch. He returned his attention to the window, the pinpoints of city light shining through the dim reflection of Newt flitting around the kitchen, now yammering away about the Shao corporation.

“So, how’re things going at the Shatterdome? I’ve heard they’re bringing in all kinds of cadets,” Hermann had moved to the island in the kitchen when Newt announced that dinner was ready. Newt slid a plate towards him and sat down. “Carbonara pasta, I substituted sliced mushrooms for the bacon. Not sure if, y’know, you’re still vegetarian but better safe than sorry, right?” Newt took a breath as if to keep talking, but remained quiet. Hermann looked up at Newt’s earnest face staring at him from across the table.

“Yes, I’m surprised that you remembered.” He saw a flicker of pride, and perhaps a touch of sorrow, in Newt’s eyes. They stayed, eyes locked, for a heartbeat before Newt seemed to snap out of it.

“Yeah, anyways Shao’s been bitching about that all week like oh my God just let them do what they’ve been doing for years, no skin off her nose right? It’s not like her program is gonna get rejected just cos the dome’s been training a bunch of kids, it’s probably actually good for her case since I doubt very many of them are drift compatible, right?”

Hermann stayed quiet, giving perfunctory answers when it seemed necessary. Newt didn’t seem to notice. He wondered if Newt had always been like that. No, Newt was self-absorbed, but he would always want to hear what others had to say if only to prove them wrong. Especially with him. Maybe he was just as nervous as Hermann, and this was how he dealt with it. But Hermann couldn’t detect even a hint of nerves in the way Newt was talking, none of the high-pitched abrupt laughter that usually accompanied his anxiety-induced rambling.

“You’ve got a little—” Newt reached over to wipe a smear of sauce from the corner of Hermann’s mouth. The gesture would have struck Hermann as intimate, had it not been for the complete lack of hesitation in Newt’s face. He scrambled for a line of conversation to dispel the tension.

“I, ah, don’t suppose I’ll be meeting Alice this evening?” A bit on the nose, but having dinner with Newt’s supposed fiancee was, after all, the premise of Hermann coming over.

“Oh, she won’t be joining us for dinner. She’ll be here later, though. You’ll adore her. She’s divine.” Newt didn’t notice, or perhaps wilfully ignored the way Hermann’s mouth twisted into a grimace at every compliment Newt paid to the mysterious Alice. Hermann vowed to resolutely not adore her, before realizing how childish he was being. If Newt was happy with her, he would have to try and be polite.

And Newt was a good host. He kept pouring glasses of wine for Hermann, and even asked if he was taking any medications that would interact badly with alcohol. Luckily, the warm summer was kind to his leg, so he wasn’t, and could indulge. Hermann’s wary demeanor began to fade.

They had moved back into the living room, talking about this and that. Hermann knocked over his cane from where it was leaning against the arm of the couch and Newt ducked to pick it up before Hermann could respond. He passed it back to Hermann, shifting closer.

“I really have missed you, Herms,” he was almost breathless, not making eye contact. He grabbed the nearly-empty bottle of wine, gesturing at Hermann’s glass.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Hermann moved to put the glass down but Newt took hold of it and began to fill it anyways. Hermann was a little surprised but chalked it up to Newt being intoxicated. “I suppose the lab is much quieter without you and your kaiju guts.”

“Oh, the kaiju guts. The kaijus,” Newt moved closer, guiding the now filled wine glass towards Hermann’s lips. Hermann didn’t resist, momentarily relishing the gentle touch of Newt’s hand where it had slid onto his bicep as he tipped the dark red wine into Hermann’s mouth. Hermann swallowed. Newt was watching him, staring almost subconsciously. He blinked.

“C’mon, you should meet Alice.” The mention of Alice brought Hermann back to his senses. He felt stupid for momentarily forgetting about her, for even thinking that Newt’s actions could be read as romantic. In the time it took for Newt to put his glass down on the coffee table with the gritty clink of glass on heavy glass and walk across the room, Hermann’s stomach was swirling with bitter, jealous thoughts. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening watching Newt and Alice share lovesick glances and the kind of soft touches that Hermann had only gotten a taste of. He wasn’t in the mood.

Newt opened the heavy door, offering Hermann his hand. Hermann took it without thinking and allowed Newt to guide him up the carpeted step into the bedroom. There didn’t seem to be anyone else there as Newt continued to hold Hermann’s hand, leading him to a chair near the edge of the room. Hermann looked around. There was a bed and a folding screen, but not much else. The carpet was thick and soft, and the chair he was in was exceedingly comfortable. Much like the rest of the house, it was darkly elegant and very put together. Hermann suspected that Alice was the driving force behind the interior design; it was somewhat unlike Newt to not have trashy taste.

Newt closed the door with a click and turned to face Hermann. “It’s so good to have you here,” he began, undoing his tie. “Please, relax.” He threw the tie over the top of the folding screen, walking over to the chair. “I’ve missed working with you terribly. You have no idea. I…” the smooth tone of his voice broke just for a moment. He swallowed. “You’re the only one who I really connect with. You and me, man. We’re like the only two people on Earth who can see eye to eye. We really are.” Hermann flushed pink, and tried to stand up. Newt’s hand shot to the armrest of the chair, crowding Hermann in. “Stop, you’re not listening to me. You have to listen to me. Everyone else is so blinded by politics and stupid little things like that. I can see the big picture. We can see the big picture.”

“Newton, I don’t think I quite follow…” Hermann placed his hand on Newt’s wrist as a caution, but Newt only took it as an invitation.

“You’re the smartest person I know, Herms. You’ll understand. You’ll get it.” Newt was leaning in, sliding his hands under the edge of Hermann’s sweater, talking into the crook of his neck. “Please…” Hermann could feel the press of lips on his throat, feel Newt’s soft hands running up his waist. He wanted to panic, wanted to not want this to continue, wanted to care what Alice would think, wanted to be mad at Newt for leaving for years and teasing him in this way, but he couldn’t even find it in himself to do anything but yield to Newt’s soothing insistence.

Newt’s hands worked their way up, pulling Hermann’s sweater off, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He was murmuring to himself, things about Hermann being the only one, the only person who could understand him. 

Hermann did not consider himself to be particularly susceptible to flattery, but the way Newt was muttering was more self-reassurance than sweet talk. He was gripped by compassion; Newt looked so desperate. Beneath his slick exterior was the charmingly moronic biologist he had begrudgingly shared a lab with for years. Hermann cupped Newt’s face in his hands and brought him into a deep kiss, causing Newt to abandon his work on Hermann’s shirt buttons. Newt whimpered, shifting his weight to Hermann’s lap and melting into the kiss. It was Hermann who broke the kiss, drawing back to look into Newt’s puppy dog eyes. They stayed that way for a moment, ghosts of the drift flickering between them. Luckily, Newt got the hint, sweeping Hermann out of the chair and practically carrying him the few steps to the bed. 

Newt was particularly fond of nipping and sucking on Hermann’s neck, pressing himself as close as possible to Hermann’s chest. For a while they stayed that way, Newt occasionally rolling his hips down to elicit light groans from Hermann until Newt started to get impatient, rutting against Hermann with increasing urgency. They fumbled with each other’s clothing, finally ending with Hermann in his boxers, hair mussed, looking up at Newt, who was still in possession of his overly-tight pants.

“God, Herms, you’re beautiful. You’re fucking perfect,” Newt ghosted kisses down his torso, nipping at his prominent hipbones. 

“Please, Newton, dispense with the flattery,” Hermann couldn’t help but to gasp as Newt toyed with the hem of his boxers.

“I can’t help it, I really can’t,” Newt seemed on the verge of tears. Hermann could see blush creeping across his face, highlighting his light freckles. Hermann nodded, and Newt dragged his boxers down inch by maddening inch, lavishing each new patch of skin with kisses. When he had fully divested Hermann of the last of his clothing, Newt returned his attention to Hermann’s cock. He gave it an experimental lick, watching Hermann squirm.

“I wanna ride you,” Newt purred. His unruffled personality was beginning to come back, as evident from the brashness of his words and the way that he held Hermann’s gaze. Hermann could only blink before giving a hoarse response.

“Of course.”

Newt was already kicking off his pants and crawling up to straddle his former lab partner. “I’m ready, just let me grab something…” he reached across a slightly indignant Hermann to rummage through the bedside table.

“You knew this was going to happen?”

“You know me man, I’m always optimistic,” he smiled, sitting back on his knees. It was the kind of sheepish smile that he would have flashed when Hermann yelled at him for letting Kaiju Blue spill onto his side of the chalk demarcation, and it dispelled any untoward thoughts that were beginning to cloud Hermann’s mind.

Newt uncapped the bottle he had pulled from his nightstand, dripping translucent blue lube onto his fingers. Of course it was. Hermann’s fond contempt was quickly replaced with empty-headed bliss as Newt slowly spread the cold lube down the length of his shaft, wiping the excess on the expensive duvet.

Despite Hermann’s impatient wriggling, Newt took the time to grab a pillow to prop under Hermann’s bad leg. “Just in case,” he quieted Hermann’s slight protests by pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

Hermann was only tangentially thinking about Alice as Newt sat up and reached to guide Hermann’s dick into him. His eyes were drawn to the quiet look of concentration on Newt’s face as he lowered himself, freezing for a moment before beginning to move. Hermann’s hips jerked up as he shuddered.

“Woah there,” Newt breathed, almost a laugh. “Let me… let me take care of you.” His eyes softened as he leaned forward, catching Hermann’s mouth in a kiss as he continued to grind down onto him. Hermann whined, fingers reaching up to tangle in Newt’s hair that was sticky with sweat and product. It was all too much, really, to have Newt treating him like this, treating him like a precious gift. Especially after ten years of minimal contact…

Newt caught wind of Hermann’s vexation in their ghost drift and rolled his hips in a way that made Hermann lose his train of thought.

It didn’t take much longer, with Newt riding a steady rhythm and administering an almost equally steady flow of praise, for Hermann to come, grabbing at Newt’s hair and shoulders, leaving scratches across the flushed skin. Newt came shortly afterwards, spilling across Hermann’s pale chest.

“You’re so good for me, Herms,” he sighed, dragging a finger through the strings of cum that collected in the concave of Hermann’s stomach. “I want you forever.” Hermann felt the weight lift from the bed next to him, and opened his eyes from post-coital bliss to see Newt tugging on a pair of boxers and walking towards the folding screen.

“Of course, I might have to convince you that you want that too.” Hermann almost objected until he saw Newt pulling, mein gott, was that a Pons helmet, from behind the screen. He scrambled to sit upright. “Don’t get all fussy on me now, Herms. Alice and I will explain everything.”

Alice! But what did she have to do with anything? The cords from the helmet caught on the edge of the screen which teetered sickeningly before falling with a clatter. Behind it stood an enormous vat filled with murky green liquid. Bobbing in the liquid was a hunk of pulsating flesh, presumably “Alice” as the crude label on the tank seemed to indicate.

“See, me and Alice have this really great plan and I want you in on it,” Newt explained, oblivious to the look of horror on Hermann’s face. “Like I said, you and me, we see eye to eye. I know you’ll understand. But I’m not an idiot.” He pointed to Hermann, who was edging away from Newt, scanning the ground for his dropped cane. “You’ll need to be convinced. And none of my degrees are in communications so I’m just gonna hand the mic to lovely Alice. She is so smart, Herms. She’s so good at explaining things. And I see you trying to run off because you think it’s gonna be like last time but she’ll take good care of you, we’ll take good care of you and then I think you’ll want to join us because we have big, big plans. And I want you there, Herms, and if you don’t cooperate I’m gonna have to fucking kill you.”

That stopped Hermann in his fumbling retreat. No matter how heated their arguments had gotten, Newt’s voice had never had that cold sharpness to them, that edge that meant he was deadly serious. This was not his friend, colleague, pen-pal Newton, who wore Godzilla shirts on casual Fridays. That thing in the tank had rotted his brain. But God, even if it wasn’t Newt, it sure felt like Newt who crossed the bed to pin him down, straddling him in a parody of their earlier position. It felt like the most painful type of betrayal.

“Please, Newt, if you’re still in there…”

“I’m right here, baby. What are you talking about?” Newt ran his thumb across Hermann’s lower lip. Hermann watched his face fall before his eyes hardened once again. “Now, hold still.” He strapped the Pons helmet onto Hermann’s head, then slid his hands down Hermann’s arms until he held his wrists. Hermann twisted them feebly, but Newt only continued to bind them together with the tie he had flung over the screen earlier. “You’re a genius. I know you know I wasn’t kidding.” The threat hung heavy in the air as Newt finished then knot.

“Newton…” Hermann’s mind raced. “Just… can you drift with us too?”

Newt’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to think it over for a minute. “On one hand, it would give you unprecedented access to my brain. And you would probably try and use that as an escape route to ruin the point of this whole exercise.” Oh God, Hermann thought, wiping down his chest. He was going to die in Newt’s apartment, covered in dried cum, because his brain got melted by a kaiju. Certainly not how he imagined. “On the other hand, I know Alice will keep you in check. I really do think she’ll be able to bring you around to our way of thinking. Plus, nothing would give me more pleasure than to connect with both of you on such an intimate level.” He shrugged, and got up from the bed. Hermann held his breath until Newt unhooked a second Pons helmet from the back of the tank. “Just like old times, huh?”

Once both of them were prepped for the drift, Newt hesitated. “Look, I know you think I’m crazy, but we’re so close. There’s no point in letting you run off. You’ll see, we can be together forever.” Hermann refused to make eye contact. He heard the click of a switch being thrown and —

Hermann felt like he was being turned inside out. Memories and feelings flitted by at dizzying speeds, mixing with ones that he remembered from his last drift with Newt and abstract impressions from the kaiju brain. He snapped back into himself in an altered world. Opening his eyes to the same bedroom, the walls seemed to undulate in and out of reality, the fibers of the covers disintegrating and re-knitting themselves between his fingers. He stumbled over to where Newt was sprawled and touched his shoulder.

 

Newt’s eyes opened. They were deep, deep, blue, so blue Hermann thought he could fall into them. He felt his leg give out and lurched forward from his kneeling position. Newt’s eyes changed like a slide viewer, shading the blue out with a concerned hazel.

And just as suddenly, they were back to that otherworldly blue and panning over to the vat, which in this nightmare world had dismantled itself to give Alice free reign. The kaiju brain pulsations were no longer comparable to those of a heartbeat. With each pulse, its shape inverted and twisted impossibly in the most hypnotizing manner. Hermann jerked his gaze from the Eldritch horror to the body at his knees.

“Newton, come back,” he cried. His voice moved through the air like marbles sinking in a pool. He gripped Newt’s arms. “I can feel you. I know you’re here.” He could also feel the huge, inky presence of the kaiju brain seeping up his spine and bleeding into the edges of his vision. But finally, like a soot-covered ember, he found Newt. Real Newt. And he clung tightly to him, pouring his sorrow and loss and joy and anguish through their neural connection. He could feel Newt’s consciousness, malnourished and light-sensitive, latch onto him in the same way a drowning man holds onto a buoy.

The blackness nearly clouded out Hermann’s vision. Whether from Alice or the strain of the mental load, he was unsure. The drain was opening, a swirling eddy dragging at the edges of the drift. Hermann fortified his connection to Newt with the last of his strength, trying to conjure up every memory they had shared while the fabric of the drift around them warped and pulled. The last thing that crossed Hermann’s mind before it flipped inside out was the letters he used to send to Newt, and his customary farewell:  
Yours truly,  
Hermann Gottlieb.

 

The stomach-twisting return from drift was unexpectedly unpleasant. He pushed himself up from where he had collapsed on Newt’s chest and surveyed the damage. Alice was still in her tank. Newt was convulsing, blood collecting at the corner of his nostril. It felt horribly similar to the first time Hermann had found Newt hooked up to a kaiju brain. He knocked the Pons attachments off Newt’s head and pulled his own helmet off, unsure of what exactly Newt had been trying to do by tying his hands. Blood dripped from his own face as he picked at the knot with his teeth, and his right eye had developed a reddish black spot in his peripheral.

“Newton, are you there?” His voice sounded hoarse and foreign to his own ears. There was no response. Hermann suddenly felt the huge weight of loss that he was faced with. He sat down and held Newt’s hand, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of his thumb.

Hermann was shaken from his numb state after endless minutes by a shudder of breath. “Herms?” Newt croaked. Hermann could only touch Newt’s face, unable to believe he was back, or unwilling to jinx it. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Newt’s bloodshot eyes swept across Hermann’s thin, pale frame. “Quite a sight.”

“Do you…” Hermann began. “What do you remember?” Newt winced.

“It’s been a long time. I feel like I’ve been concussed. Or like I’ve been blackout drunk for ages. I don’t know.” Hermann suddenly became aware of his state of undress and, embarrassed, scanned the immediate floor area for his clothes. “Did we… did we fuck, dude?”

“That’s not important.” Hermann muttered, pulling on cat-print boxers and a black undershirt that presumably belonged to Newt.

“No, I remember that. Yeah, we did!”

“Well, I’m not quite certain it was us, so much as your kaiju girlfriend manipulating you in order to manipulate me.” 

“Hm.” Newt tried to pull himself into a sitting position but immediately collapsed back down with a groan. Hermann’s indignant demeanor was immediately dropped in favor of his concern.

“Don’t try and get up, just let me get you some water…” Hermann stood, leaning against the bed for support while he scouted out his cane. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay, Herms.” Newt laid his head back down, staring dolefully at Alice.

When Hermann returned with a glass of water and a clean cloth, Newt hadn’t moved. Hermann knelt by him, propping a pillow under his head.

“I think I’m gonna miss her, in like a Stockholm Syndrome way,” Newt sighed. His eyes roved over to where Hermann held the glass of water. Hermann thought that he suddenly looked rather weary. He moved the glass to Newt’s mouth, and it bloomed red where the water touched the blood from his lips. They stayed quiet for a few more minutes, Hermann dabbing at Newt’s face with the cloth.

“Should we perhaps talk to the Shatterdome about this, ah, situation?” Newt refused to make eye contact. Hermann got the hint. “Never mind that now. We’ll deal with it later.” Newt’s hand found Hermann’s and gripped it.

 

Hermann insisted on accompanying Newt to bathe, in case he passed out, but neither commented when he took it upon himself to help scrub Newt’s hair. They cleaned up as best as they could manage, righting the screen in front of Alice’s tank and finding pajamas that didn’t reek of sweat or blood. Hermann assembled a pallet on the living room couch with extra linens, and made sure Newt was settled in his own bed with water and Tylenol. Newt had been pretty much silent the whole evening, so Hermann dispensed with a goodnight as he turned the lights out and made his way back to the living room.

A while later, Hermann heard footsteps padding across the carpeted floor.

“I can’t stay in there.” Newt’s voice was small and hesitant. “I can feel her, it’s… too much.”

Hermann shifted over and Newt took the invitation to crawl under the covers. It was a little cramped, but Hermann was secretly happy that he had Newt to tether his racing thoughts.

“I’m sorry for, like, everything,” Newt gave a short laugh. “I think I hurt you a lot.”

“I suppose it wasn’t really you.” Hermann didn’t want to think about the past couple hours at the moment.

“For what it’s worth, I’m very lucky to have you.” Hermann felt a lump form in his throat. “I feel like we’ve lost a lot of time.”

“To the order of about ten years.”

“Oh, Herms,” Newt’s voice broke. “I wish I could go back.” Hermann swallowed dryly.

“What would you do?”

“Spend it with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I wanted to end this with them straight up dying in the drift but I felt that would be cruel and unusual so I tried to fix the ending up. Lemme know if it's too cheesy or anything and I'll revert to Plan A :)  
> P.S. I've literally never read Go Ask Alice. I mean, I intend to. But from what I know about it it seemed like an okay title. Yikes @ myself tho


End file.
